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Updated: May 2, 2025
I have a strange love for rivulets and all running waters, and in my foot wanderings I find myself magnetically attracted towards them." Lily listened with interest, and after a short pause said, with a half-suppressed sigh, "Your home is much finer than any place here, even than Braefieldville, is it not? Mrs. Braefield says your father is very rich." "I doubt if he is richer than Mr.
"No: you vex me; you provoke me;" and Lily stamped her foot petulantly, as in Kenelm's presence she had stamped it once before. "Speak plainly, I insist." "Miss Mordaunt, excuse me: I dare not," said Kenelm, rising with a sort of bow one makes to the Queen; and he crossed over to Mrs. Braefield. Lily remained, still pouting fiercely. Sir Thomas took the chair Kenelm had vacated.
Braefield evidently felt some pride as she led Kenelm through the handsome hall, paved with Malvern tiles and adorned with Scagliola columns, and into a drawing-room furnished with much taste and opening on a spacious flower-garden. "But where is Mr. Braefield?" asked Kenelm. "Oh, he has taken the rail to his office; but he will be back long before dinner, and of course you dine with us."
In short, the whole intellectual culture had come to a dead stop long years ago, perhaps before Lily was born. Now, while she is gazing into space Mrs. Braefield is announced. Mrs. Cameron does not start from revery. She never starts. But she makes a weary movement of annoyance, resettles herself, and lays the serious book on the sofa table.
Braefield, let me trust to your good sense and the affection with which you have honoured my niece not to incur the risk of unsettling her mind by a hint of the ambitious projects for her future on which you have spoken to me. It is extremely improbable that a young man of Mr. Chillingly's expectations would entertain any serious thoughts of marrying out of his own sphere of life, and "
Emlyn himself felt in the presence of a pretty wayward innocent child, the companion and friend of his Clemmy. Mrs. Braefield was more discerning; but she had a good deal of tact, and did not as yet scare Kenelm away from her house by letting him see how much she had discerned.
Braefield also had the wit to discover that, under the infantine ways and phantasies of this almost self-taught girl, there lay, as yet undeveloped, the elements of a beautiful womanhood. So that altogether, from the very day she first re-encountered Kenelm, Elsie's thought had been that Lily was the wife to suit him.
Mrs. Braefield, "Seventeen! A very anxious age for a girl; an age in which dolls cease and lovers begin." Mrs. Cameron, not so languidly, but still quietly, "Lily never cared much for dolls, never much for lifeless pets; and as to lovers, she does not dream of them." Mrs. Braefield, briskly, "There is no age after six in which girls do not dream of lovers. And here another question arises.
"Too early! certainly not; on the contrary. Good-day: I must now go to Mrs. Somers; she has charge of my portmanteau." Then Kenelm rose. "Poor dear Lily!" said Mrs. Braefield; "I wish she were less of a child." Kenelm reseated himself. "Is she a child? I don't think she is actually a child."
"And now," said Mr. Braefield, rising, "I must just have a word with your gardener, and then go home. We dine earlier here than in London, Mr. Chillingly." As the two gentlemen, after taking leave, re-entered the hall, Lily followed them and said to Kenelm, "What time will you come to-morrow to see the picture?"
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